


These Are The Eyes Of Disarray

by shiplocks_of_love



Series: 221Broadchurch [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't copy to another site, Experimental Style, Free Verse, Gen, Mild Blood, Minor Character Death, POV First Person, POV Sherlock Holmes, Prequel, nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:16:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23083087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiplocks_of_love/pseuds/shiplocks_of_love
Summary: Your tears break my heart and I want to hold you. Am I allowed?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Series: 221Broadchurch [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1261094
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	These Are The Eyes Of Disarray

**Author's Note:**

> Experimental piece on events happening before [The Darkness Within, So Close](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13646553/chapters/31342053). A.k.a. how Mary died in this 'verse.  
> The title comes from the song "Plush" by the Stone Temple Pilots.

I break the silence of the night with a few notes from my violin. It’s always too quiet on Baker Street these days.

[A deafening silence, as the cliché goes.]

You step in the flat and I see the pain and the heartbreak plastered all over your face. Oh John, what happened?

[You were radiant just a week ago, the sun inside of you when you held your newborn daughter.]

You ask me if I knew. No, John, I did not know. I did not know how fully Mary betrayed you. Betrayed you again. I am sorry, John, I should have seen it.

Mary is gone. You relinquish the baby to her real father. Your empty house is filled with silent lies, broken memories and questionable choices. You come to me again, sit in your chair,

[it will always be your chair, John]

and ask for my help. We will find her, I will return her to you. I want to see you happy again, John.

[I would go to hell and back to see you happy. Again.]

This is about giving you back control over your life.

Your tears break my heart and I want to hold you. Am I allowed?

\---

Clever Mary, traitorous Mary. You took your gun, of course.

[Dover – Calais. A woman of your talents, Mary, can slip a weapon by the flimsy security].

What drives you, Mary? Fear? Hate? Love?

[I gave you my world and you shattered him. Not love.]

What are you running from?

[Or whom?]

Don’t you see we all need closure?

[You run, we follow. A junkie detective and a broken army doctor.]

Your lies break John’s heart and I want to hold him. Am I allowed?

\---

Luxembourg. Stuttgart. Graz. Szeged. Timisoara.

[The days blur together.]

Dingy hotel rooms, shabby rental cars.

[John is quieter by the day. I am afraid for him.]

You are good, Mary. But I am better,

[not for him, though. None of us is good for him, Mary]

And I will find you.

\---

As the cliché goes.

[An old warehouse near Bucharest.]

History repeats itself, with a gun levelled

[at my heart. No, not my heart]

at my chest

[my heart creeps behind you, a combat knife in his hands]

He holds you in an embrace of death. He is allowed.

\---

I wipe your hands reverently

[strong, calloused. Soldier hands that killed tonight]

Your tears cannot dilute Mary’s blood

[spreading like a stain on the cold cement floor]

but they fall silently on my chest

[the rain outside drowns your sobs]

I hold you. I am allowed.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hi to me on [Tumblr](https://shiplocks-of-love.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
